08-13-2018, 02:23 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Zjarr hated to admit it, but he could very much consider himself a claustrophobic in quite a few cases, and this whole "stuck in the Observatory with no way out and food rations running low" bullshit especially alarmed him. He was content with wide open spaces or maybe some tight quarters with exits, but this shit? It heightened his anxiety, increased his risk of panic attacks, made him overly finicky and apprehensive. He could hold himself together in similar situations, sure. But in this case there really was no way out. At least, not one that could be easily seen. He didn't know the Observatory that well, frankly, and didn't know all about the mechanisms of it. He was likely the least helpful fellow trapped in this situation.
A vaguely familiar voice echoed in his eardrums, and the cyborg wolf froze in his tracks, reluctantly glancing over his broad shoulders to see the form of the Astral Seraph appear. Hmm, only Bastille. The demon didn't have any explicit emotions or thoughts about the fellow—he was a leader, he was trying to aid the situation, and he welcomed Zjarr like any other newcomer, unlike a great handful of people who took an instant disliking to him at first upon learning who he was and what he had done. That was...respectful. Yeah, maybe. He didn't really know the guy that well.
"Oh. Hey there, Bast," the canine murmured wearily, nodding his head in the feline's direction in acknowledgment. "I was, erm, walkin'. More like pacin', I guess, heh," he added with a brief, visibly nervous chuckle that somehow managed to escape past his lips. "Used to take walks to calm me down. Can't really do that now, so this is the closest thing, really. Hope I'm not disturbin' anyone with it, though." A subtle frown rested upon his maw as he eyed the other male curiously, and he felt the slightest of sympathy for the fellow. Bast was a leader, and naturally, people would feel the need to depend on him in these uncertain times. It was a horribly stressful task, a duty Zjarr had shared as the sovereign of his own group once. Well, it wasn't really mine. I took over it. But y'get the gist. "Y'holdin' up well, man? Reckon just 'bout everyone here either feels like shit or like they'd shit bricks." Panic and anger. A fun duo.
A vaguely familiar voice echoed in his eardrums, and the cyborg wolf froze in his tracks, reluctantly glancing over his broad shoulders to see the form of the Astral Seraph appear. Hmm, only Bastille. The demon didn't have any explicit emotions or thoughts about the fellow—he was a leader, he was trying to aid the situation, and he welcomed Zjarr like any other newcomer, unlike a great handful of people who took an instant disliking to him at first upon learning who he was and what he had done. That was...respectful. Yeah, maybe. He didn't really know the guy that well.
"Oh. Hey there, Bast," the canine murmured wearily, nodding his head in the feline's direction in acknowledgment. "I was, erm, walkin'. More like pacin', I guess, heh," he added with a brief, visibly nervous chuckle that somehow managed to escape past his lips. "Used to take walks to calm me down. Can't really do that now, so this is the closest thing, really. Hope I'm not disturbin' anyone with it, though." A subtle frown rested upon his maw as he eyed the other male curiously, and he felt the slightest of sympathy for the fellow. Bast was a leader, and naturally, people would feel the need to depend on him in these uncertain times. It was a horribly stressful task, a duty Zjarr had shared as the sovereign of his own group once. Well, it wasn't really mine. I took over it. But y'get the gist. "Y'holdin' up well, man? Reckon just 'bout everyone here either feels like shit or like they'd shit bricks." Panic and anger. A fun duo.
[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼
✰ — I'M JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD
zjarr ignibus / tanglewood / hellcat / weapons dealer / plot